


From My Castle, Looking Down

by rosadavidii



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29990742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosadavidii/pseuds/rosadavidii
Summary: Being locked in a tower isn't ideal, for sure, but Andrew could do worse. He's safe, and most importantly, he's alone. Then a strange man topples through his window.Yes, it's a Rapunzel AU.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	From My Castle, Looking Down

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I've got five chapters written so far, and I've got the plot mapped out. I'm planning to try for a consistent update schedule- maybe one chapter a week?- but no promises. 
> 
> This one should be pretty light overall, but I'll put a content warning before the chapter if I think there's anything potentially upsetting in there.

Andrew Minyard stared out the window at the same trees he had seen every day for the last five years and wondered very seriously if a person could die from boredom. 

His room was a circle thirty-four feet across, give or take. He had paced it out over and over, counting and recounting as though he were likely to forget the number. The wall of the bathroom formed an alcove for his bed on one side of the room. On the other side was a small kitchen area. A couch and two armchairs formed a sitting area in the middle of the room, and bookshelves lined the rest of the walls, except for the space taken up by the huge window. And that was it. 

If it had been an apartment, Andrew thought wryly, it would have been a great deal.  _ Secluded studio! Almost a thousand square feet! Amazing views!  _ There was, of course, the small matter of there being no staircase and no way down, but that was a minor detail. 

Well, almost no way down. No way down for  _ him _ . 

Andrew looked down at the long braid of his hair to where it hung out the window, swaying in the breeze. The goddamn hair. Possibly his least favorite part of this whole ridiculous clusterfuck. Well, no. He had a lot of least favorite parts. But the hair was on the list, for sure. 

“Hey, asshole! Wake up!” 

Andrew stuck his head out the window and looked straight down. Down, down the length of the tower, and there was the witch- the source of his situation. He sighed deeply and moved to unbraid his hair so that it reached the ground. 

After several minutes of grunting and swearing on her part and stoic silence on Andrew’s despite the pain in his scalp, the witch hauled herself through the window. Andrew looked her up and down. She looked terrible, as usual. Red-rimmed eyes, sallow skin, thinning hair the same light blonde as his. 

Technically, she was his mother. It was a technicality Andrew chose to ignore. After what she had done, she didn’t deserve the title. 

“Back so soon, Tilda? What, use it all up already?” he asked mockingly. 

“Don’t give me that,” she growled. “Just get over here.” 

Andrew didn’t move. Mumbling threats punctuated by more than a few expletives, Tilda crossed to his side, silver shears at the ready. Instead of reaching for him, though, she handed them to Andrew. She had learned that lesson quickly and well. Andrew took the shears and snipped seven strands of hair from his head before handing back the shears and hair, careful never to touch Tilda’s hands. 

“And are you keeping to your side of the deal?” he asked, letting it sound like the threat that it was. 

“No, I haven’t seen my son. No, I don’t know where he is. As if I care. You know I don’t need him anymore.” Tilda’s lip curled, her ugly expression turning even more sour for a moment. She turned back toward the window. “We’re done here. Let me down.” 

She was so close to the window. One wrong movement… one wrong step… Andrew let himself consider it for a single moment, and then pushed it aside. Aaron was safe for now. If she died, there was no way of knowing what kind of failsafes she had. It would be just like her to set up some petty curse to be triggered just to get back at him. Andrew clenched his fists until the nails bit into his palms, but he walked back across the room and tossed the length of his hair out the window. 

With Tilda finally on the ground and out of sight into the forest, Andrew turned back to the monotony of his daily routine. Seven strands would last her several weeks, assuming she didn’t get greedy, so he would be alone again for a while. Flopping into an armchair, Andrew pulled his hair into a pile in front of him and set about the arduous task of braiding and coiling it back until it was a manageable enough length to allow him to move around more freely. 

Once it was done, Andrew leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Dealing with Tilda drained every single one of his energy reserves and then some. He could still feel the residual effects of her spell drawing off of his life force, but magic aside, her personality alone gave him a headache. It was as good a time as any for a nap. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be. He let his shoulders drop and drank in the quiet. 

The stillness was broken by a panted breath and a low curse from somewhere just below the windowsill. 

In a flurry of motion, Andrew was out of the chair with his knives drawn. He crossed the room in a few steps and pressed his back against the wall just to the left of the window. There was a series of scuffling noises accompanied by heavy breathing and several more curses, and then a pair of hands slapped against the windowsill from below and a boy was hauling himself into Andrew’s room. 

Andrew moved in a blur. All he had time to register was dark hair and dark eyes before he had the boy pressed up against the wall with a knife to his throat. “Who are you? Why are you here?” Andrew demanded, injecting every ounce of menace he had into the questions. This was not a situation he had been prepared for. More fool him for assuming that anywhere, even an impenetrable tower, could be completely safe.

The boy went with surprisingly little fight. He looked startled and concerned but nowhere near as scared as people usually were when they found themselves in his position. Interesting. 

“I didn’t know there was anyone up here. I saw a tower in the middle of nowhere. It seemed out of place. I was curious,” the boy answered. He cocked his head. “Who are  _ you?  _ I didn’t see a door in this thing.” 

“Name,” Andrew growled, ignoring the question. 

“Neil,” the boy answered easily, but something in his eyes put Andrew on edge. Whoever he was, this name was not the truth, or at least not the whole one. Andrew paused, debating on whether to demand more now or to wait and get his answers in time. Before he could decide, Neil coughed, and flecks of red appeared on his lips. 

“Sorry, I think I-” he wheezed, before his eyes rolled back into his head. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hi!](https://gothyard.tumblr.com/)


End file.
